'It grieves me much,' replied the Peer again,

Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain:

But by this Lock, this sacred Lock, I swear (Which never more shall join its parted hair;

Which never more its honours shall renew, Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew),

That, while my nostrils draw the vital air, This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear.'

He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread

The long-contended honours of her head. 140 But Umbriel, hateful Gnome, forbears

fate,

In mystic visions, now believ'd too late! See the poor remnants of these slighted hairs!

My hands shall rend what ev'n thy rapine spares.

These, in two sable ringlets taught to break,

Once gave new beauties to the snowy neck; The sister-lock now sits uncouth alone, 171 And in its fellow's fate foresees its own; Uncurl'd it hangs, the fatal shears demands,

And tempts once more thy sacrilegious hands.

O hadst thou, cruel! been content to seize Hairs less in sight, or any hairs but these!'

PROLOGUE TO MR. ADDISON'S

CATO

This prologue was written in 1713, after Addison had given Pope two of the main causes which led to their estrangement; and itself led the way for the third. Addison's faint praise of the Pastorals, and disagreement with Pope as to the advisability of revising The Rape of the Lock, had not as yet led to their estrangement. But when not long after the presentation of Cato, Pope ventured to become its champion against the attacks of John Dennis, Addison's quiet disclaimer of responsibility for his anonymous defender cut Pope to the quick.

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,

To raise the genius, and to mend the heart; To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold, Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold:

For this the Tragic Muse first trod the stage,

Commanding tears to stream thro' ev'ry

These verses were first published in 1714. There is no actual proof that they are Pope's, but as his editors have always retained them, they are here given.

SEE, Sir, here's the grand approach,
This way is for his Grace's coach;
There lies the bridge, and here's the clock;
Observe the lion and the cock,
The spacious court, the colonnade,
And mark how wide the hall is made!
The chimneys are so well design'd,
They never smoke in any wind.
This gallery 's contrived for walking,
The windows to retire and talk in;